Back in the woods they made a fire, where Jerry succeeded in drying his clothes.
"Anyhow, I saved that fish," he announced, with a satisfied shake of the head.
Will looked at the cowboy inquiringly.
"Sure thing he did. When he came ashore he had that line fast in his hand, and pulled the trout in before he'd even shake. He's a real sport, all right," said Reddy, with admiration in his manner.
"It seems as though these things are born in one. Now, I'd have dropped my rod the very first thing, and howled for help," remarked Will.
"How about your camera?" asked Jerry wickedly.
"H'm! That's a different thing. But when I saw you go in I did let that fall. Luckily, no damage was done. My heart would be broken if the blessed little black box got out of shape. But I've one picture of you on that log," announced Will.
"And that will be enough to give me a clammy feeling every time I look at it," nodded Jerry,
who was in secret more shaken by his recent terrible experience than he cared to show.
They went down a little later, Jerry carrying his two dearly-earned trout. And when the others praised the fisherman that evening at supper for supplying their camp table, they little dreamed how near their hard-working chum had come to disaster in his efforts to land the enticing finny beauties of the river.